Eye of the Storm
Like the coming of a harvest moon,
the shaking of an earthquake far east,
the guilt drives a hole through my omnipresent heart.
Like a tornado with entwined houses within,
the eye of the hurricane slow to pass,
the actions of you so hidden jumble clearly before my eyes.
Like a darkened sky of an eclipsed night,
the chill of the autumn wind swaying the restless trees branches,
it holds me tighter as I embrace having something that holds back.
Like the mystique of the rainbow after the long awaited shower,
the far-off glow of a lighthouse for the sailor long from home,
it stretches out and engulfs me in whirling darkness.
Like thunderclap too close to quell ever-present fears,
a glimpse of your heart on your sleeve before you covert it from view warily,
how I have tarnished you shakes me with wordless screams for forgiveness.
Like the soft touch of hands on a torn and battered photograph,
the white-knuckled grip of hands on stuffed animals long forgotten,
I rest my eyes on what I have made you become and beg my heart to bleed just a little bit longer.
17 August 2007